Fortune and Brave Hearts
by JamesLuver
Summary: He was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs when she descended into the servants' quarters, wearing her Sunday best and feeling oddly shy.


**A/N:** This is not a new fic-it was written in response to **Awesomegreentie** and **Terriejane's** _A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words_ challenge back in June 2016. I have been asked recently to transfer these fics from Tumblr to here for ease of access...so I finally gave in, LOL.

The picture which inspired this was a bouquet of flowers.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

John found her in the servants' hall. It was after luncheon and the place was empty; everyone was preoccupied with their own tasks, and it was giving Anna a peaceful half an hour on her own while she cleaned some of Lady Mary's jewellery. She glanced up, beaming, when he entered. It was a sight she was still getting used to. He'd only been out of prison for a few days. The most glorious few days of her life. Her heart _bounced _in her chest whenever she saw him, never mind fluttering. She wanted to laugh and cry and touch him at every opportunity she had, because they were finally reunited.

"Hello," she said, putting down her things. "Where have you been?"

"With Mrs. Hughes," was his reply as he rounded the table and slipped into the seat beside her. His hand dropped to her knee at once, and she relished the weight of it against her.

"Mrs. Hughes?" she said, arching her eyebrow at him. "Have I got to fight off female competition already?"

"It's funny, I was never this popular before," he teased, moving his thumb in slow circles. The sensation made her squirm. They'd had one rather heated fumble out in the courtyard, but that was as far as they'd got in reuniting in the physical sense. Sleeping in segregated corridors had been rather counter-productive. "I certainly never had this kind of attention last time, either."

"Don't," she protested weakly. She hated any thought of the troubles they'd been through, especially if it led them to thinking about Vera again. That harpy of a woman had governed their lives for far too long now. It was time to leave her buried in the past. They had a future to look forward to.

John softened. "I'm sorry. I was actually in there asking Mrs. Hughes permission for something."

"What on earth could that be?"

"Permission to take you out to dinner tonight. She was very gracious, said she'd look after Lady Mary for you. What do you say?"

"I say I _love _it," Anna said enthusiastically. "We've not had a date in so long! But what will Mr. Carson say?"

"Mrs. Hughes said to leave it with her. Besides, there's hardly much to concern him. It's not like I have any responsibilities." John's mouth twisted bitterly. He was still worried about his state of employment with Thomas around—needlessly worried, in Anna's opinion. It was only natural that Lord Grantham would want his most trusted confidante back. But perhaps taking some time away from the house would do him good, and any time they got to spend alone without the others trying to eavesdrop on their conversations was a huge bonus.

"When are we going?" she asked.

"After you've dressed Lady Mary for dinner. If you change before you dress her, we can head out after that. Make a real night of it. It won't be anything too special, but my biggest regret was that I was never able to court you openly. Now that I'm able, I want to make it up to you."

"Every single second will be special to me," she promised him, and risked leaning in to press a swift kiss to his cheek. The pleased glow in his cheeks carried her all the way through the afternoon.

* * *

He was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs when she descended into the servants' quarters, wearing her Sunday best and feeling oddly shy. It was so rare that he saw her dressed in anything other than her simple maid's uniforms, but the look of worship in his eyes instantly quelled any awkwardness that she'd had.

"You look beautiful," he breathed when she reached him, and his hand lingered above her waist, as if he would very much like to reach out and touch her. Mindful of their surroundings, he kept an appropriate distance, although he seemed unable to resist helping her into her coat. They bid a goodbye to the others in the servants' hall, garnering curious looks that made them glad that Mr. Carson was upstairs serving so that he couldn't put a damper on the evening with his disapproval, and made their way into the cool, fresh air.

They walked hand in hand down the grassy lane, stopping every now and then to share a kiss. Anna doubted the novelty would ever wear off. To finally be able to do this freely, well, it meant the world.

"What are you thinking?" John murmured when he pulled away, brushing the tip of his nose against hers in a way that made her shiver. She tightened her hold around his middle and leaned up to kiss him again, unable to resist.

"Just silly things, really," she responded.

"Such as?"

"How this feels like a first date."

"I'm not sure I'd be kissing you so soon if it was a first date," he teased. "I'd want to make a good impression. Make you think I was a gentleman, so to speak."

"Are you telling me that you're _not _a gentleman?" she said, feigning shock. "I feel like I've been led up the garden path. And you did such a good job of safeguarding my honour, too."

"It took every ounce of self-restraint that I could muster," he returned. "You were a most tempting minx, Mrs. Bates."

It thrilled her to hear that particular pet name fall from his lips. Mrs. Bates. Yes, that was who she was now, who she'd been for a long time in her heart. Their first wedding anniversary had been far from ideal, but now they had a whole lifetime of better ones to come. That was the most important thing.

"I've not seen that kind of tenacity in a long time," John continued playfully. "There could certainly be no misinterpreting what you wanted."

"As opposed to you, who was far too cryptic for his own good," she shot back. "I felt like I was trying to puzzle out a riddle at times, never mind a man's feelings."

"I'll do better in future," he promised her.

"You don't need to do better. You just need to be you. That's all I need."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I'm glad to hear it." Anna paused for a moment, deliberating. "You know, since this _is _one of our few dates, I've been thinking."

"Oh yes? About what?"

She delved into her pocket and withdrew a handkerchief. She twirled it between her fingers for a few seconds, waiting while his eyes fixed on it. She tossed it at his feet.

He blinked. "What was that for?"

"Please don't say that, it makes you sound as much of a curmudgeon as Mr. Carson is. It's a token, Mr. Bates. It's early days for us, but I'm letting you know I'm interested."

"I can't say I've had many tokens in my time," he said, a wicked grin unfurling. "But I'm most flattered to receive one from you. I shall take it as my invitation to get to know you better." He stooped down awkwardly to retrieve it, tucking it into his jacket. "Now, let's go and get dinner, and see where the evening takes us."

"Lead the way then, Mr. Bates," she said, smiling when he took her hand once more.

Dinner was lovely. Simple, of course, to be expected of the Grantham Arms, but the fine company of her husband and her daring glass of wine made it all the better. They talked and laughed, ensconced in their own corner of the world, brazenly holding hands across the table top, uncaring of anyone who looked their way. It was legal for them to do it now. Man and wife. Anna's wedding band glistened in the low lighting, emphasising that fact for everyone. Afterwards, they took a long stroll around the village, never letting go of each other for even a moment.

They couldn't stave off reality forever, and it was with great reluctance that they agreed that they ought to be getting back up to the big house. Still, they walked slowly to prolong the inevitable.

The sun had set a little while ago, but the air was still warm. Anna tilted her head up to contemplate the first stars that were making their appearances.

"Thank you for this evening," she said. "I've had a wonderful time."

"I'm glad. I wanted to do something nice for you."

"It was more than nice."

They walked along several more paces before John came to a sudden stop.

"Wait there," he said.

"Why?" she giggled, turning to look at him.

"There's something I need to do, that's why."

"Out here, in the countryside? What on earth could that be?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Close your eyes," he said.

"But why?"

"Just do it," he implored.

"All right," she relented. "Only because it's you."

She felt rather silly standing there in the middle of the lane with her eyes tightly closed, but she trusted John. Although, she had to admit, the rustling that she could hear was more than intriguing her. She clamped down on the urge to peek, knowing that he wouldn't thank her for it.

He didn't keep her waiting long.

"Hold out your hands," he instructed softly.

She did so dutifully, and felt something lightweight being dropped there. Her fist closed around it instinctively.

"Open your eyes," he whispered.

She was greeted with the prettiest bunch of wildflowers, an explosion of colours. She touched the petals reverently before glancing up at her husband.

"They're beautiful," she said.

He shuffled boyishly. "I'm sorry they're not shop bought. Or something more expensive, for that matter. You deserve the world after what you've put up with for me."

"They're perfect," she said firmly. "Spontaneous gestures are the best. And you wouldn't get this kind of wild beauty in a flower shop. I love them."

The crinkles round his eyes deepened at her words, and he tugged on her hips, easing her closer. "You dropped your handkerchief at my feet earlier to signal that you were interested in me. It seems fitting that I should give you flowers to let you know that the feeling is more than mutual, too."

"Is it indeed?" Anna mused. "More than mutual, you say?"

"More than mutual," he confirmed. "I love you, Anna May Bates. I love you so much. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

She could resist him no longer, leaning up on her tiptoes to crush her mouth to his. She was careful not to squash the flowers between them.

It didn't take long for the passion to overtake them. One of John's hands moved up to cradle the back of her neck, angling her head further to his so they could keep kissing. When the tip of his tongue touched her lips she made a soft sound in the back of her throat, pushing closer. It was a long time until they parted, and when they did his eyes were dark, his chest heaving as much as hers.

And she knew in that moment that she couldn't end the evening like all the ones previous. She couldn't say goodnight to him. Not yet.

"Come to me tonight," she pleaded breathlessly. "I'll leave the door unlocked to the women's quarters. No one will ever know. I don't share a room anymore, and no one will be going to wake you for breakfast. You can sneak back to your room when everyone else is downstairs. Please. I can't be without you any longer."

He looked at her for so long that she thought she might burst with impatience. She thought he might need more persuading, but the smile that crawled across his face was excited. Almost feral.

"I can't be without you for any longer, either," he whispered, his breath hot in her ear. "Wait up for me, my love."

She nodded against his shoulder, then slipped away from him, the anticipation building with every step she took. He caught up with her a little further down the road. They didn't touch each other again, letting the suspense reach a crescendo.

And the night was even more wonderful than the evening had been. It was far from what she had been expecting from their reunion—she'd resigned herself to waiting for the cottage—but it was no less wonderful for it. She'd craved that physical intimacy for so long now, had thirsted for it when all she'd had was the memory of her wedding night to sustain her. But now she had new memories, fresh inspiration. Of the two of them on her narrow bed, moving as one, panting together. Of the soft, choked noises he made in the back of his throat in order to stop himself from making too much noise. Of her thigh tight to his flank. Of the electric feeling of his chest hair against her breasts. Of his hands running all over her body and setting her alight. Of the unbearable heat between her thighs as he teased her there, her fingernails biting into his skin.

And, more than all that, too. The fulfilment she felt as they snuggled together in the tight confines, with absolutely no room to move, was the most right thing that she'd ever experienced . Waking up with the knock on her door at six to John's face and the cheery flowers on the window sill, their perfumed scent mixing with the masculine smell of her husband, truly cemented the fact that, at long last, everything was right in her world.


End file.
